So- When Are You Having Your Next?

BUWAHAHAHAHAA!!!

People- you are insane. I get this question almost as often as I get "Is he hungry?," "Are his eyes going to stay blue?," and "Are you moving?"... ugh. Kaely has been the latest offender on this quest- and it's driving me batty! For her, it's easy enough to simply say- go talk to your dad and ask him for another sibling (she still wants a sister)- but for everyone else? Sorry. I love Chase nearly more than anything in the world (Kaely being an equal exception), but let's just say I realize I'm suffering from pregnancy PTSD. (Some graphic details to follow- fair warning- but a reminder (and re-run) to those when they ask why I say, "no thanks")

Partially joking about it, but on a serious note? I really do feel the throat clenching, gut-wrenching, pulse pounding, fear and anxiety over the thought of even taking a chance on going through this all again. Dave and I joke back and forth about how "I asked for it"- how the timing of Chase's birth seems like he was a honeymoon baby, and recalling my fervent arguments and debates about the timing of planning a family at the time. Dave wanted us to have a year as newlyweds first before trying- me? I have so many friends who have gone through trouble trying to get pregnant, I figured we could very well be in the same boat, and I knew I didn't want to look at having a baby past mid-thirties (personally). So... a couple months after the wedding we (or mainly, me) decided to let things happen as they were meant to. Ahhhh- joke was on us- literally within the week or two after that decision, we were blessed with Chase. I had that moment of- "Oh crap" - here I had made such a big deal over the fact that it could very likely take months or a year or two for it to even happen, and then "BAM!" - here he was.

The first few weeks were a bit of shock. Dave was still working up here in the area, and I had just started a new job at the hotel (re-)opening the Starbucks- complete with physical labor of moving things, setting up stock, running orders, and losing my mind. So- when at around 6 weeks I experienced the first bleeding incident, I felt guilty as hell, thinking that my hesitation over being excited was partly to blame. I thought for sure I was miscarrying. I was advised to go home from work, stay off my feet, and go to my scheduled ultrasound the next morning. I was a basketcase to be honest, but Dave and I went to the appointment- and surprised us by seeing/hearing his heartbeat on screen... I was told that "sometimes these things happen" and to take it easy, but nothing I do or don't do would make a difference. I was given a note for work to take a week or two off. But... this was a new job, I wasn't about to tell anyone I was pregnant, and since the doctor said "nothing I do or don't do would make a difference..."

I ended up going to work, but taking it easy (as much as possible). A week later, on Kaely's 6th birthday, I was at work and experienced extreme bleeding again (down my legs, horrible and terrifying)... I sat there bawling, and finally told my co-worker the situation. I "knew" that it was over- but she assured me that it was going to be okay.. I didn't believe her at the time, but went directly to the doctor- and sure enough- the little #$%& was swimming around, with a perfect little heartbeat. I was diagnosed with a "subchorionic hemmorhage" Basically I was put on every kind of rest you can think of (pelvic rest, bed rest, etc)- and was given the note that I needed to make it at least to 12 weeks before being re-evaluated to return to work, being able to walk, etc. The job put on a fake face and said they understood... the couple co-workers I had were genuinely supportive and beyond caring. I lost my mind the next couple weeks being at home, not being able to move around, Kaely was out of school for the summer, and all of my known independence was taken away.

This is about the time I decided to return to school if they'd still have me. I thought it'd be less physically demanding, and thought I'd be able to survive, have Chase in February, and return to school right after... (ha)... A month or more of bleeding, another note that meant I couldn't return to work again- and they decided to "let me go"... the kicker was because I hadn't been there long enough, I wasn't able to qualify for unemployment or any other benefits. If only I had stayed with corporate Starbucks (as I had for years) I would've had disability pay, along with possibility for unemployment. OH well. I was finally let off bedrest around 14 weeks or so, enough to start nursing school in August, and try to resume a normal pregnancy...

Dave was offered the job down in Miami in September, and since I was back to normal activity and feeling decent, I thought it'd be fine... we traveled to Boston, moved some stuff down to Miami, flew back and forth between Orlando and Miami while I tried to finish the semester of school... Chase was growing and behaving for the most part right along schedule... until... November.

The second weekend of November I woke up in the middle of the night on Friday night to pee for the millionth time as usual, when I looked down and saw a large blob- a clot of blood- sitting in the toilet. It was around 2 am or so, and I had a moment of shock. Since my anxiety increased, I started to be panicked... Dave was due to fly in the next morning (I remember being mad at him for some stupid reason or another, so he had mentioned asking if I'd even be picking him up at the airport that morning)... I called the doctor's office and was told to go right to the L&D of the hospital that I was supposed to deliver at. I was just shy of 27 weeks (I distinctly recall the date of 11/11/11- later it turned to 11/12/11, Saturday). I drove myself (and yes got yelled at for it), and once again, thought that I was losing him. 24 hours observation, and he was just peachy- great size, extremely active- just me and the bleeding again.

Another order of indefinite bedrest, trying to finish up the last month of school, and just... survive. You have no idea how much you take for granted until you are unable to do things for yourself. I was not (and prob am not) the most compliant patient- so I pushed the envelope constantly on the (modified) bedrest issue. I made it through Thanksgiving, and then the following weekend was our baby shower. The day before I passed another clot- and thought- crap! So I put myself on strict bedrest again and just held my breath... the day of the shower came, and of course I had to cook myself (against protests of family), and then just sat there exhausted... the next day was Sunday, Dave had to drive back to Miami, and I went to bed... only to wake up around midnight to pee again... and this time a clot about the size of my palm was in the toilet. Once again I drove myself to the hospital, somewhat knowing the drill, but thinking that this time I may not make it out. I insisted Dave not drive back up since everything looked okay- they were just observing me, and giving me injections of steroids- just to play it safe for his lungs. All the nurses remembered me from the previous visit. I was just 30 weeks.

Once again, released and sobered. I had to see the OB every week, and ended up being twice a week in those next couple weeks for ultrasounds, testing (positive) for FFN (an indicator for pre-term labor)... so on top of the bleeding, I was now being careful about pre-term labor. Then, on one of the ultrasounds it was shown that he was measuring small for his gestational age. The look on the tech's face was terrifying- because she had been there each time I had been bleeding and all that... so the doctor mentioned it, but said we'd wait another week (this was the week before Christmas) to take another measurement. Went through the motions at Christmas- researching the term they quietly said at the time - IUGR- and just hoped for the best. After all, this whole time he'd been measuring right on for his age/size. Day after Christmas I had to go to the hospital for a non-stress test to observe his heart rate and all. That part we passed with flying colors. That was a Monday.

Dave returned to Miami that night, and the next morning I was to go back for the followup ultrasound. Tuesday morning I woke up feeling positive- thinking I'd go in and see he was the right size for his age, and it was just a fluke the week before. Unfortunately, that was not the case, he went from being under the 5th percentile to under the 3rd. He was measuring in at 30-31 weeks gestational age rather than the 33 weeks. The doctor wrote me a referral to a perinatologist, and called to set the appointment with him himself for the next day. They had different equipment and specialized in this. Still reeling from all this, I found out that they may want to induce labor/go in for a c-section soon. What??? I thought we were just talking about trying to prevent pre-term labor...

Wednesday. Went to the specialist. Waited for hours, saw my squirmy little sea monkey on screen, and he was still measuring around that 31 weeks size. Not good. They did an echocardiogram on him to make sure there were no issues there, that was the good news. But he was showing stress through the blood flow of the umbilical cord, and this meant he wasn't getting the nutrition needed- hence the stunting of growth. They did an amniocentesis to see if his lungs were developed enough to survive outside the womb. I was walking in shock. If they were ready, they wanted to deliver him in the next week. If they weren't, they would consider another round of steroids and to wait another week or so. The gamble was if they waited, he could go into distress and well, the worst could happen...

Thursday. Got the call that morning that the results were his lungs were ready. Got another call from my doctor asking me to go to the office to talk to him. That is never a good sign. I had Kaely with me, we sat in that office for at least an hour or two, watching Elf. Towards the end of the day (4pm) (turns out the doc had an emergency c-section he had to leave to, so that's what took so long) I sat there and got the news they were recommending delivering- the next day- and not inducing either- which I wanted to push for. No, they felt that the stress may be too much on Chase, they wanted to do a c-section, the next morning at 7am. I had to call Dave to come home that night. I had to coordinate what to do with Kaely who saw me crumbling. I have never felt so much fear.

Friday morning was the delivery-getting to the hospital at 4am, and all that follows (see my first post The Arrival and Day of Delivery) Followed by 23+ days living in the NICU, and all the fear and terror that follows....

I have the most amazing, adorable, pleasantly plump little baby boy now. Arriving in at 4lbs 2oz- then losing weight to being around 3 1/2 lbs before gaining weight again... all those nights and days listening to the sounds of the monitors. Knowing that my head automatically snaps around at those sounds- even when watching tv shows... I still struggle with the adjusted age expectations, and how different things are, but I know how fortunate we are about how healthy he really is (up to 17 lbs!).

So, see? I feel through all that nightmare, we were so incredibly fortunate, that we truly lucked out - and I fear that I would push my luck trying to take that gamble again. I don't think I could emotionally survive going through even a fraction of that again, of being afraid to even be excited nearly the whole time, because I was trying to keep distant since I didn't know how things were going to end... I have separation anxiety with leaving Chase with anyone because I know how precious each moment is. No, he doesn't have "special needs" now- but it's just that I feel so ridiculously overprotective...I hate that I hurt and offend people because I watch everyone like a hawk with him, and am still not able to imagine dropping him off with anyone. Well, it's all so exhausting... so no, I do not see ever being able to give Chase a baby brother or sister- soooo... it's a touchy subject, and I try to make light of it- but I really am serious when I say that I can't imagine it. So, Kaely can look to her dad, we have several sisters and brothers (in-law) who can provide more little ones to play with :)

I will cherish my good fortune in the two beautiful children I have now- and while I work to put the past behind us, I also remind myself of it in order to put things in perspective.